Too Many Miles
by Moonfairyhime
Summary: Sometimes, the road is too long. A collection of one shots dealing with the neverending road and the weird things and conversations that seem to occur.
1. Too Many Miles

Title: Too Many Miles  
Author: Moonfairyhime  
Rating: T, minor swearing  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.  
Summary: Sometimes, the road is too long. Especially when your brother makes comments like "Dude, isn't forty-two the answer to everything?".  
Feedback: I'd really appreciate it  
Author's Notes: Some of the things mentioned in this fic really happened to me. Proceed at your own risk. Slight spoilers for 1.09, "Home". Hugs and kisses to gravigirl123 for beta-ing for me.

* * *

Sam knew that Dean was going to drive him crazy. Especially since their next case was in Florida and they were driving there from Maine. It had taken them ten hours to get to New Jersey (Sam just loved construction) and he knew it was going to take roughly sixteen more hours to get to Florida. As Sam attempted to stretch out in the passenger side seat of the car, he wondered how long it would take Dean to come up with his next inane question. Sam loved his brother, he really did, but playing "I Spy" through two hours of construction was not his favorite way to pass the time. Especially, when in those two hours, they managed to go about twenty miles. 

"Hey, Sammy, do you think you could predict tomorrow's lottery numbers?"

Sam gave Dean a look that clearly read 'I don't feel like dignifying that with a response and how are we related again?'. Sam then checked his watch; it had taken Dean about twenty minutes to come up with his next question. That was a new record.

Dean laughed. "No, really, Sam, what do you think tomorrow's lottery numbers will be? We're getting low on cash."

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew that Dean wouldn't give up until he answered. "Fine, I predict tomorrow's lottery numbers will be 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42."

"Dude, isn't forty-two the answer to everything?"

Sam sat straight up and stared at his brother. "_You_ read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah. Snuck into the movies once and saw it. I was in between huntings and you were at Stanford and therefore couldn't amuse me." Dean then reached over and ruffled Sam's hair. Sam batted his hand away. "Besides, Sammy, you're our resident bookworm. How many times have _you_ read that book?"

"Novel."

"Pardon?"

"Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a novel. Something that has over 70,000 words is generally considered a novel."

"...Sammy, you scare me."

"Why? I was in Stanford for **Pre-Law**. We're supposed to know weird things like that. And to answer your previous question, I've read the novel twice."

"Ah."

"Ah?"

"You're just as much as a geek as I thought you were." Dean began to reach towards Sam.

"Dean, if you so much as touch a single strand of hair on my head, I will break your hand."

"Sammy, I'm hurt." Dean retracted his hand and began to concentrate on driving again.

"No, you aren't. But you _will be_ if you touch my head."

"...Hey, Sam, aren't those numbers from that show "Misplaced" or something?"

Sam was about to bang his head against the Impala's dashboard when Dean grabbed his arm. "What Dean?"

"Do not bang your head against the dash. You'll dent it."

"Heaven forbid something happens to the car. You may drive me insane, but as long as your car is okay, all is right with the world."

Dean began to soothingly talk to the car while glaring at his brother out of the corner of his eye. Sam decided he'd rather take a chance with the shit he'd seen in his dreams and fall asleep rather than watch his brother talk to the car.

"AHHHH!" Sam shot awake and immediately guzzled half of the water bottle that had been sitting on the floor of the Impala for a good two weeks. Dean raised his eyebrow; he had wondered where that water bottle went. Sam checked his watch; he had managed to get almost two hours of sleep.

"What is it, Sammy? Did Timmy fall down the well again?"

"I hate you."

"Hate you too, bitch. Did you have another vision?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I hope not."

When Sam didn't continue, Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, I am not Dr. Phil. For one thing, I'd have to age about thirty years and for another thing, I'd have to lose these devilish good looks. What did you dream about?"

"I dreamt I drank a bottle of hand lotion. I reached out for a water bottle, half-asleep, and ended up drinking a bottle of hand lotion. Hand lotion doesn't taste that great, by the way."

"Well, we know that dream isn't coming true."

"How do you know that?"

"You never sleep. Anyhow, was the lotion Avon or the crappy hotel kind?"

"Avon... Why are we discussing this?"

"It's better than pointing out that sixty-plus year old man over there in the red, white, and blue Speedo."

"He has got to be over three hundred pounds. _Thank you_, Dean, for pointing that out."

"Hey, I wanted to discuss your dream. You wanted to find a new topic."

"...You're my big brother. You're supposed to protect me from things like that."

"Sometimes, Sam, it's just nice to share the wealth. Little brother, I never pointed out the..."

"**Stop** right there, Dean, I really don't want to know."

Dean watched as Sam's fingers reached for the dial of the radio. "Dude, what are you doing?"

"I'm changing the station. If I hear one more drug-addict screaming out a song, my head will explode."

"That'd be interesting to see."

Sam glowered at Dean. "Don't talk to me about interesting things to see. Besides, after pointing out that man in the Speedo, you _owe_ me."

"Fine. Just don't make it some emo Goth chick music."

Sam smirked. "Oh, I won't."

Five minutes later, Sam was enjoying his sweet revenge. He was singing along with Neal McCoy's "Billy's Got His Beer Goggles On" at the top of his lungs and as off-key as he could. Dean had tolerated the George Strait song, didn't mind the Garth Brooks song, but a man could only take so much.

"Look, I promise to never call you Sammy again if you change the station."

"What's the magic word?"

Dean looked at Sam. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Sam grinned. "Every minute of it. _Life looks good, good, good... Billy's got his beer goggles on_."

"Sam, I will kick you out of this car if you don't stop singing this instant."

"You'd never do it."

"You're making the idea very tempting."

Sam switched off the radio. "Are you happy now?"

"Yes. Where the hell did you pick-up the habit of listening to that music? And can it go back to wherever it came from?"

"My roommate freshman year was a guy named Paul. He was really into country. I just learned to tolerate it. Some songs I really do like."

"You've never mentioned a Paul before. I heard you talking to Paula, but not a Paul."

"That's because Paula is Paul. He became a she in between our sophomore and junior years. It took Stanford a long time to sort out that paperwork."

Dean stared at his brother. "Dude, that didn't convince you to stop listening to country?"

Sam stared back, grinning. "Don't tell me you're bothered because my former roommate is a transsexual."

Dean looked uncomfortable. "No, not at all."

"Dean, you face down the paranormal every day and you're bothered by the fact a friend of mine is a transsexual? You know, Paula is happy to tell anyone about the operation she underwent. It's not that painful, from what she says."

"You listened to him, err, _her_ talk about the operation?"

Sam shrugged. "She was drunk, I was bored, Jess had headed home for the holidays. Paula was always fun; get two or three beers into her and she'd tell you _anything_. We'd just finished finals for the fall semester, I was bored, and Paula will tell a tale to anyone who listens. So..."

"Dude, you can put the country stationback on if you promise not to continue with the story."

Sam shook his head as he put an AC/DC cassette into the player. Dean relaxed as the familiar notes of "Highway to Hell" began to play. Sam turned around and began to dig through the two-foot deep pile of trash in the backseat, hoping to find a new cassette to listen to after AC/DC was over. "Dean, we're going to have to clean out the backseat sooner or later... No way."

"What did you find, Sammy?"

"_The Best of Queen_. I thought it was a myth." Sam held the tape between his two fingers and stared at in fear.

"What are you talking about?"

Sam looked at the tape and then at his brother. He dropped the tape back on last week's fast food dinner and shook his head. "Read the novel Good Omens and you'd understand."

Dean frowned, but dropped the subject. "Highway to Hell" ended and a new song began. He sighed and looked at Sam. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Gee, Sam, what are we going to do tonight?" Dean frowned when Sam didn't continue. "Aww, come on, man! You're supposed to say 'The same thing we do every night, Dean. Try to take over the world!'."

This time, Sam didn't resist the urge to beat his head against the dashboard.


	2. Quand Sam Dort

Title: Quand Sam Dort  
Author: moonfairyhime  
Rating: T, minor swearing  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.  
Summary: Sam really just wants to get a full night sleep.  
Feedback: I'd really appreciate it  
Author's Notes: Bits of this fic were taken from my real life: random dreams I've had and other bits are from things I've experienced, either working or on family vacations. The title means "When Sam sleeps" or, in this case, tries to sleep. Thank you to gravigirl123 for beta-ing. This fic kind of follows _Too Many Miles_, but it can be read as a stand-alone.

* * *

They had just finished another successful exorcism (meaning Sam had only managed to get choked once and didn't get knocked out at all) and Dean was driving while Sam tried to get some actual sleep. A flash of white caught Dean's attention and he stopped the car. "Dude, Sam, wake up." 

The glare Sam gave Dean would have done any father with a teenage daughter proud. "Dean, I was _sleeping_."

"Is that a turkey?"

Sam sat up and looked at were Dean was pointing. "Yes, Dean, that is a turkey. So what?"

"Sammy, you may not have noticed it, but it's the kind you buy in the store and it's half-cooked."

Sam shrugged, still not getting the point. "So? We're near a lake. It probably fell out of someone's boat and the waves carried it here."

Dean stared at Sam as he eased the car back on the road. "Do you have experience with half-cooked turkeys?"

"I went to college, Dean. Some of the stuff you see there is a bit bizarre. For spring break one year, a bunch of us got together and rented a houseboat. Things fall overboard." Sam stretched and Dean winced as he heard Sam's back crack. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Whatever, college boy." Dean looked into the rear-view mirror and sighed. "I wonder if it was safe to eat."

Sam was _so_ close to falling back asleep. Then his phone rang. He gave the phone a glare that was normally reserved for when Dean said something particularly stupid and answered. "Hello?"

Dean, stopped at a red light, watched as Sam's face went from annoyed to downright pissed off. "Look. I don't know how you got this number. No, I don't know where the hell the nearest Wal-Mart is and I don't know what the telephone number is for said Wal-Mart. Go to hell, lady." Saw shut his cell phone with an audible snap. He threw the cell phone in the backseat, not caring if it got lost back there. Dean gave Sam a look and Sam frowned at Dean. "What?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing, Sam."

Sam nodded and curled into the door. Dean winced as he watched his brother curl up like a cat. He didn't want to think how sore Sam was going to be once he woke up. Sam himself was enjoying a REM cycle with no nightmares or visions. He just had the sinking feeling that this REM cycle wasn't going to last much longer.

There were days Sam hated to be right.

"Sam, wake up and roll up your window. That deer looks ready to kiss you."

Sam groaned as he felt REM sweetly wave goodbye. "Dean, I want to sleep. Please, just let me sleep."

"Sammy, I'm all for letting you get some sleep, but you should roll up the window before that deer says hello."

Slowly opening his eyes, Sam nearly freaked out when he saw a deer four feet from his face. Nearly is the key word. He refused to allow a deer to freak him out after Dean warned him twice. He quickly rolled up his window and tried not to notice the disappointed look on the deer's face. The deer quietly trotted away.

"Dude, that deer was so smitten with you." Dean had a smirk on his face.

"Dean, you could have rolled up the window for me, you know."

"Not really. The deer would have kissed me and I refuse to allow this handsome face to get covered in deer slobber."

Sam glared at his brother. "I should have fed you to the deer."

Dean appeared shocked. "Sammy, you would deprive millions of women the mere pleasure of just seeing me?"

Sam blinked. "I think, in the long run, they'd thank me. It seems once girls get past your easy-going manner, they generally want to club you over the head with their shoes or purse."

Dean straightened up. "Sam, I have never had one girl do that me."

"Do you remember Sue in Iowa?"

Dean frowned. "Who?"

"The girl who chased you out of the diner with a shoe in one hand and her purse in the other. I had to convince her not to file harassment charges on you"

"You do the whole puppy-dog look well, though. Besides, she was the only one."

"How about Jenna in California or Abby in Texas or..."

"Do you document all of my failures with women?"

"Yes. It makes my life more bearable whenever you try to pull shit like waking me up when I'm actually sleeping."

"In all fairness, you have to admit it'd be hard to wake you up if you were already awake."

"Dean. Shut up. You're being more stupid than usual today."

"Sammy, go back to sleep."

Sam mock-saluted Dean before yawning and closing his eyes. If nothing else, not sleeping for weeks made it really easy to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Sam's cell phone began to ring again and both brothers ignored it. When it began to ring again five minutes later, Dean considered answering it but Sam grabbed the phone first.

"Grand Central Station. This is Sam, to whom may I direct your call? ...Justin? Hey, how's it going? You and Chloe still going out? She broke up with you. You were cheating on her with Sere, Brooke, and Paula? ...You worry me. What's up, Justin? You switched majors again." Dean noticed Sam roll his eyes and Dean smirked. Sam smiled at his brother and sighed. "What are you majoring in now, Justin? _Pre-law?_ Oh. No, I think you'll make a good lawyer! Really. No Justin, I'm not lying or being fastidious or trying to 'tear flesh'." Dean blinked at his brother and Sam looked at Dean and covered the phone with his hand. "Sarcastic, Dean, sarcastic." Sam returned his attention to the phone while Dean mocked how Sam answered him. "Okay, you need my help. Congratulations on getting the internship. Justin, just remember the clientele you're going to be working with don't have a half-million dollar trust fund. Just remember to read all subsections and fine print, no matter how fine. Remember that commas are your friend and using a semicolon instead of a comma can change the meaning of an entire document. Remember that a verbal agreement is just as binding a written agreement. Listen to the people who talk to you; don't just smile and nod. That'll piss them off. Don't use words like quixotic when odd will work. And above all else... no, I wasn't about to say 'to thine ownself be true', _please_ don't call the people 'plebs' or 'Epsilon Semi-Morons'. They _really_ won't like that. Of course I miss you guys. Tell Laura and James and Paula and Mitch and Haley and Erika and the others that I miss them too. You'll do fine at the firm. Good luck, Justin." Sam ended the call and then turned off his phone. "He's doomed."

"'Epsilon Semi-Moron'?" Dean asked as he watched Sam throw the cell phone in the backseat.

"Brave New World." Sam said as he closed his eyes. "The society is based off the Greek alphabet. The smartest people are called Alphas and the dumbest are called Epsilon Semi-Morons. People of varying intelligence fall in between those castes."

Dean nodded. "So, college boy, what caste do I fit in?"

"Dean, don't make yourself an easy target." Sam said, trying to force his body to go back to sleep.

An hour later, Dean was quite pleased to note that Sam had not even moved from the position he fell asleep in. Twenty minutes later though, Sam began to twitch and Dean could only hope that it wasn't another vision.

"No, Dean, I don't want to visit your pink polar bears."

Dean's left eyebrow shot up.

"I don't care that you named them Pinky, Fuchsia, and Rose."

Dean's right eyebrow joined the left one.

"...Why did you just eat the sibling? I know he was made of milk chocolate but why eat him?"

Dean's eyebrows made a beeline for his hairline.

"And speaking of which, polar bears don't live in swamps. They live in igloos."

Dean decided that whatever Sam ate last, Sam was never allowed to eat again. Sam sighed in his sleep before turning over and falling back asleep. Twenty minutes later, Sam shot up, breathing hard.

"You okay, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head. "I think so."

Dean rolled his eyes when Sam didn't continue. "Sammy, what happened to the eight-year-old boy who used to tell me everything and never shut up?"

"You ran him over with the Impala when you were thirteen."

"Sam, I've never known anyone to hold a grudge better than you. How many times do I have to say it was an accident?"

"Dean, quit lying to yourself. You were in the middle of an open field and I was a good 1,000 feet to the left of the car. Not in front of the car, to the left of the car. The only way you could have hit me is if you were aiming for me."

"Sammy, let it go. I only broke your arm."

"_After_ you chased me a good five hundred feet."

Dean shrugged. "Look at it this way, you're a pretty fast runner. Probably stemmed from that accident."

Sam glowered at Dean. "Not the point. You're not supposed to run over little brothers with your car."

"Not even when they were being particularly annoying that day?"

"I knew you did it on purpose!"

Dean pulled off the road. "I've got something that may help you sleep. At least it used to help you sleep." He began to rummage around in the backseat and Sam watched him curiously. Dean grinned as he found what he was looking for. He tossed it to Sam.

"You have Mr. Bunny! Dad said he threw him out years ago." Sam eyes were shining as he looked at the beat-up white bunny. He looked exactly how Sam remembered him: one ear half-chewed off, missing an eye, and a few assorted stains that Sam still didn't know where they came from. Staring at the bunny now, Sam couldn't help but relate him to the rabbits in that one Monty Python movie. Oh well, he still gave Sam a feeling that was undeniably safe. Funny how a beloved stuffed animal can make the big, bad scary world go away for a little bit.

"After Dad threw him in the trash, I went out and rescued him."

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean smirked at Sam. "No chick-flick moments, Sammy."

Sam ignored his brother as he hugged Mr. Bunny to his chest and let his eyes close. Unlike the last few times Sam tried to sleep, his breathing was deep and even. It was the sleep of the dead.

Dean smiled at his little brother. "You're welcome, Sammy."


	3. The E Means Empty

Title: The E Means Empty  
Author: moonfairyhime  
Rating: PG-13, minor swearing  
Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural_.  
Summary: On any road trip, you risk the chance of running out gas. Sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't happen. This is one of those sometimes happens moments.  
Feedback: I'd really appreciate it.  
Author's Notes: Slight spoilers for episodes 1.10 "Asylum" and 1.11 "Scarecrow". Warning: Some _really_ bad puns have been used. A little fluffy towards the end. Many thanks to okibibanshi for beta-ing and putting up with me. This fic is dedicated to litashields for just being the best person ever.

* * *

Sam watched as they drove past the sign declaring _Welcome to Deerlake Falls_. Down below the sign welcoming them into town was _People Population: 65, Cattle Population: 5,000_. Sam blinked and sighed. He really hoped Dean knew where the hell he was going for once... 

...and ten minutes later, Sam was once again tempted to beat his head against the dashboard until sweet unconsciousness welcomed him with her open arms. Dean and Sam were standing in front of what may have been a very popular restaurant if they had gotten there about a decade earlier.

"Dean, you made us drive to a remote location in the middle of nowhere for a restaurant you remember eating at twelve years ago. What is wrong with you?"

"I'm hungry." As if to prove a point, Dean's stomach grumbled.

Sam shook his head. "Dean, I'm proud of you. That was a really well-thought out statement."

"Aww, thanks Sammy. Wait... Do you mean that I don't think things through?"

"Not all the time, Rambo."

Dean shrugged and started walking towards the Impala. "Oh well, Sammy. We may as well head out. I can't handle anymore of this town. I feel like they're all staring at us."

Sam looked around. "That's because they are, genius."

"I wonder why. Maybe they've never seen such a handsome guy before."

"Or maybe they aren't use to hearing Metallic so loud that their dead ancestors are screaming 'Turn it down'."

Dean glared at Sam. "Don't joke about the dead. They don't like it and then tend to show up in the form of ghosts or zombies and haunt the living hell out of you."

Sam just looked at Dean. "You know, if I was being haunted by a ghost, it might be an improvement. Like a type of guardian angel. You have to admit that not all ghosts are nasty."

Dean nodded as both brothers got into the Impala. "I'll give you that one, College Boy."

Sam glanced at his brother. "Do you think we have enough gas to make it to the next town?"

"Sure we do." Dean patted the dashboard. "She's never let me down."

"Dean, it's eighty miles to the next town and sunset is in an hour." Sam looked worried.

"Don't worry, Sam, we'll be fine."

...An hour later and in the middle of nowhere, Sam was really hoping that Dean was rethinking his definitions of "enough gas" and "we'll be fine". Dean was rooting through the trunk, trying to find the spare gas can. Sam looked at his brother from where he was standing next to the trunk and shook his head. Sam opened his mouth and Dean glared at Sam.

"Don't say it, Sam."

"I was just going to say a quote."

Dean's curiosity was piqued as he slammed down. "Okay, then, Sammy, what is it?"

Sam grinned. "'A pedestrian is someone who thought there was a couple of gallons left in the tank.'"

Dean retaliated by smacking Sam upside the head. "Ha. Ha. I found the spare gas can, but it looks like all the gas in it has evaporated. Look's like we're walking to the next town, which would be..."

"Little Big Root and we're about fifteen miles from it." Sam supplied the answer without even pausing.

"Isn't that an oxymoron? Little big?" Dean pondered the question for a little bit. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"...You get premonitions of everything else. Why didn't you get one of this happening?"

Sam stared at his brother with a look of 'Gee, genius, I don't know. I do remember, however, asking you if we had enough gas'. Dean interpreted the look as 'O, Great Big Brother, I have no answers for you, O Handsome One'.

"Well, Sammy, I've got an idea." Dean said, grinning like a fool.

Sam could only stare at his brother. "Those may be the four scariest words I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

"I'm going to walk to town and get gas. You are going to stay here and watch my baby. If anything happens to Her, I will kill you."

"Dean. I don't want to stay here by myself." Sam sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Well, this is inconvenient. I really wanted to make it to Leaky Creaky Springs by morning."

"Well, College Boy, is there ever a convenient place to run out of gas?"

Sam frowned. "No, not really."

Dean suddenly grinned. "Well, breaking down in front of some hot chick's house would be really cool."

"..." Sam just looked heavenward, once again wondering if he was brought home by the wrong family, but the whisper of _no_ he heard in the wind (and he knew that Dean didn't hear it) quickly made him ignore the thought.

"Okay, Sam, new plan. We'll both head to Little Giant Tree or whatever it's called and if something happens to Her while we're gone, I'll kill you."

Sam nodded, agreed, and wondered if his brother was getting to him, because, really, it seemed perfectly acceptable to die just because Dean's car got a scratch while they were out getting gas. "This isn't a bad area. No one will bother the car."

"Oh, _now_ you know what's going to happen."

"No, this just feels like a nice area."

"Well, if we stumble across poppies, car or no car, I'm hightailing it the other way."

"I'll be two steps behind you."

"Good to know you have my back." Dean said, a smile finding its way on his face and Sam found himself grinning back at his brother.

Dean and Sam made it half way to Little Big Root before the sun fully set and the stars began to shine. Sam pointed straight above them. "Look, it's Orion."

Dean looked up and grinned. "I wonder what's below Orion's belt."

Sam smiled at their old joke. "Whatever it is, I bet it's Sirius."

Dean actually laughed before he pointed up. "There's Pleiades. I wonder where Merope is hiding tonight."

"You would be concerned about that sister."

"What's the constellation next the Little Dipper again?"

"Draco the Dragon?"

"That's the one. There's a queen too? Cassiopeia?"

"Right. Don't forget about Cepheus, her king." Sam said and smiled. "Jess and I used to look at the stars whenever we could find the time and since we lived on campus, the lights kind of drowned out the stars and..."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Sam, please don't tell me you would take Jess out stargazing just to make-out with her."

If Dean could have seen Sam's Cheshire Cat grin, he would have been proud. "Sometimes. A lot of the time though, we did just stargaze. I love to stargaze, you know that. Sometimes, I like to be reminded it's okay to take a step back and relax. In the grand scheme of things, we aren't important. Compared to these stars, standing unchanged for so many eons, we're just a mere moment of a burst of light before we completely fade."

Dean smacked his brother with the gas can. "I forgot that stargazing makes you all philosophical. How much longer to Big Little Stem?"

"If you mean Little Big Root, we could have been there about twenty minutes ago if we were in the car..."

"Bitch, I swear no one can hold a grudge better than you."

"Runs in the family." Sam said, shrugging. "I'd say it's going to take us about twenty-five or thirty more minutes to get to the town. Let's hope we can get a ride back to the car from someone in town."

Dean glowered at Sam. "If they try to feed us apple pie, I'm running for it. I do not want to meet any more fugly creatures like that Scarecrow."

"I highly doubt that'll happen for multiple reasons. One reason is we're not married."

"Must you dissect everything?"

Sam nodded. "Of course. I'm the geeky college boy who majored in Pre-Law at one of the best schools in the nation. Lawyers are supposed to dissect everything. They teach you that in Pre-Law 101."

Dean shrugged. "At least you admit you're a geeky college boy."

Sam stared up at sky, absentmindedly pointing out Venus. "What was your favorite superhero growing up?"

"Random much?"

"Humor me?" Sam asked and heard Dean sigh.

"I always liked the Invisible Woman from the Fantastic Four." When Sam snorted, Dean continued. "She reminded me of Mom; pretty with blonde hair and even though you can't see her, you know she's there. What about you, Sammy? Who was your favorite superhero?"

Sam smiled. "Oh, I had the best superhero in the world. He picked me up when I fell down and was always there for me, even when I didn't think I needed him to be. He nursed me when I was sick and played with me, even though he was older than me and didn't always like playing baby games anymore. Funny thing, though. You used the wrong choice of words, Dean. He _wasn't_ my favorite superhero, he still _is_ my favorite superhero."

"And what's this superhero's name?" Dean couldn't help but ask.

Sam grinned. "Oh, you don't know him? It's Captain I-Don't-Do-Chick-Flick-Moments a.k.a. Super Big Brother, the best superhero in the world."

Dean smiled, touched too much for words, and gave Sam a push. "Just because you're trying to flatter me doesn't mean I'll let you drive my car more, Sammy."

"To drive the car would imply using gas, which we currently don't have."

"Shut up." Dean then farted. "And there's your gas."

If the dashboard was in front of Sam, he knew he'd currently be beating his head off it. Sam _really_ hoped that stupidity wasn't contagious.


End file.
